


a dream is a wish your heart makes

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cinderella AU, M/M, bucky as cinderella, steve as the prince, tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James finds, suddenly, that they’re rather close. He doesn’t know when Stevie’s horse settled beside his, but it has, and James finds himself looking into this sky blue eyes and losing himself, for just a second. His heart is heavy with loss and anguish, his stomach roiling with anger and discontent, but he feels almost lighter. How long the affect will last, he does not know. He’ll just have to hope it stays for long after their meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dream is a wish your heart makes

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I went to see the new Cinderella movie, _loved_ it, and ended up doing a plot very similar to this on kik with [rytsarr](http://rytsarr.tumblr.com), only we did it with a pre-serum Steve and prince!James. Anyway, feel free to point out any spelling mistakes, and leave any comments below!

The news comes at thirty minutes past two in the afternoon.

James’ mother, Winifred Barnes, is dead.

James doesn’t know what to make of that, at first. His mother, who was healthy as a horse, the only working woman James ever knew, was gone. Dead. Caught an illness in a foreign land, a kingdom apparently far less civilised than their own, and never recovered.

It breaks his heart. James was seven when his father, George, was taken from them. A kind, sweet man, who cared for his wife and his son with the utmost compassion, George’s death had been a tragic loss. He had provided for them, brought them gifts from foreign lands, from every voyage he went upon. James had loved to hear his stories.

But a tragic accident had taken his father from him, and his mother had been the one to raise him. The one to advise him. To tell him to be kind, and have courage, no matter what he faced. It was advice that had stuck with him, caught in the back of his mind. He had not, and would not, forget.

And James does have courage. A new chapter in his life has opened up, and he must face it without fear. What he _would_ like is a little bit of comfort, and so naturally, he turns to his step-father.

But all he gets from Mr. Pierce is a snarl, and a muttered, “How am I supposed to pay the bills now? We’re ruined!”

And that is how James comes to find himself in the woods, pelting through the trees at top speed away from his house, the home he grew up in. His fingers lay curled in a dark, knotted mane, his steed taking him far, far away from the cruelty of his step-family and the anguish in his heart.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, tearing free of his chest in angry sobs, and he doesn’t know how to stop. He thinks he’ll simply cry forever, or until his tears run dry. He honestly thinks he has reason to.

But he is stopped in his tracks by a stag, hurtling out of the woods, causing his horse to rear, and halt. James clings on for dear life, eyes wide as he looks ahead. He stares for a moment, holds the eye of the beast, and he wonders for a second if this is some sort of sign. Unlikely perhaps, but maybe—

All three are startled by the trumpeting of horns and the snap of dogs’ jaws, snarls and growls from behind them. Shouting echoes through the trees, and James does the only thing he can think of.

“Go! Quick!”

Whether the stag understands him, and runs off per his warning, or if it simply is frightened away by the shouts and thundering of hooves, James doubts he will ever know. But he had been taught throughout his lifetime, however, short said lifetime may have been, to respect all living things. To treat them with kindness, and respect.

He plans to stick around, to  tell the hunting party that have found that stag to back down, but his own horse is spooked by the noises and the dogs that run past. It rears yet again, and carries him off through the forest, hurtling at top speed around trees and over bushes. He tries so desperately to stop him, pulling on his mane, at his neck, but to no avail. He won’t stop. He’ll just keep cantering until he tires himself out.

“Hey!”

There’s a shout from somewhere off to his right. The hunting party have broken through the trees and caught up to him, and one of their men is galloping right alongside him. James can barely hear him over the thundering of hooves, and he’s far too preoccupied to be able to answer.

“Do you need help? Sir!”

His horse veers off to the left, surging through bracken and leaves, scratching James’ face and throwing him off. He can do nothing to stop the horse. He’s going to have to throw himself off and hope to god it returns—

But then it halts all of a sudden, and James looks up to be met with a brilliantly blue pair of eyes.

“Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, but James doesn’t know. His heart hammers in his chest, his breathing light and fast. His horse, too anxious to simply stand still, trots in a slow circle.

“I—yes. Thank you.”

He takes in the man opposite him. Dressed in the king’s clothes, not a nobleman but not a servant either, red, blue, and white silk and suede adorning him even though he’s on the hunt. James thinks it must be terribly heavy to carry around. But then he notices the man’s face; he’s handsome, unbelievably so. Soft blue eyes that pierce James’ soul, his blonde hair golden in the dappled light that filters through the trees, thrown back by the wind. His cheeks are rosy, his lips full. But most importantly: he’s part of the hunting party.

“Are you hunting that poor stag?” James asks.

The man and his horse follow the little circle his own horse makes. It’s rather disconcerting. “Yes.” He nods.

“Why?” James asks again. He’s always been inquisitive, yes, but this is simply an interrogation.

“Well—“ the other thinks about it, and then shrugs. “It’s what’s done.”

“Just because it’s the done thing doesn’t mean it’s right.” James snaps. “What has that stag ever done to you?”

“I don’t know.” The other answers. He seems thrown off by that question. “Nothing, I suppose.”

“Exactly.” James says. “Nothing. You shouldn’t hunt him when he’s done nothing wrong.”

The other looks him up and down, and settles his soft gaze on his face. James is quite sure he’s in love from that face alone, but it’s the next part that truly seals the deal:

“You’re absolutely right; I’ll call off the hunt.”

He gives a nod. The party has stopped not too far away, on the other side of the clearing, that much is for sure. James can see them from where he’s sat. His horse is quickly slowing down, moving in slower circles and chasing the other horse’s tail in an almost lazy fashion.

“Who are you?” The other asks.

“No one important.” James says. He doesn’t feel in the mood for introductions, not now. “Who are you? Do you work for the palace?”

There is a moment of confusion that crosses the other’s yes, then realisation, and understanding, and then finally happiness, all in the space of a few seconds. James doesn’t know what to make of that, but he decides not to question it.

“Yes. I’m a, uh—an apprentice.”

“And apprentice.” James echoes. “Learning your father’s trade?”

“My mother’s actually. In a sense.” He smiles. James wonders what exactly that means as he looks down at the ground, which has finally come to a stop beneath them. James pats his neck, and looks back up at the other. “Do you have a name?”

 “Uh—“ The other seems to think for a moment. Does he not know his own name? But then he smiles, a shoulder shrugging. “People call me Stevie.”

“Which people?” James asks, head tilting. He’s curious. This man is big and bulky, muscled, toned, and yet he seems like a Stevie. There’s a light in his eyes that James can’t see past, and a smile on his lips that looks almost boyish. James wonders what kissing him would be like—but then he quickly forgets that thought, throws it away. A foolish thought, really.

“My mother.” He answers. “If she’s in a good mood.”

James smiles at that. He finds, suddenly, that they’re rather close. He doesn’t know when Stevie’s horse settled beside his, but it has, and James finds himself looking into this sky blue eyes and losing himself, for just a second. His heart is heavy with loss and anguish, his stomach roiling with anger and discontent, but he feels almost lighter. How long the affect will last, he does not know. He’ll just have to hope it stays for long after their meeting.

There’s a shout from over Stevie’s shoulder, the thunder of hooves, two men riding towards them. One looks like he must be a Captain, the other some sort of high up official; the Captain looks friendly, a smile on his lips, the other close to a scowl. James knows which he likes and which he doesn’t, but when it comes to men of the court, it certainly isn’t his place to say anything.

The Captain is the first to call out. “Hey, Pri—“

“Stevie!” His new companion yells. “It’s Stevie, remember? Stevie!”

James doesn’t notice the urgency in his tone. He’s too busy smiling at him. The Captain looks at them both curiously, and then he gives something of a smirk, bemused but entertained by something that James cannot see. Apparently Stevie does see it, because he directs a glare back at the Captain.

“We must be getting on with the hunt.” The other man yells, far more stoic than the first. James remembers where this all began – the stag in the woods, the deafening pounding of hooves against the ground that had spooked his own horse into running away. He frowns.

“The hunt is over.” Stevie calls back. James sits up a little straighter as he looks at him, startled. He knows that Stevie said he would call off the hunt not five minutes ago, but he supposes he never really expected to see him do it. “Turn the horses around and begin heading back to the palace. I’ll catch up.”

James wonders who this apprentice is to order around men of high stature, men that report directly to the queen herself, but he supposes he has no idea how a court is run. Maybe he’s the leader of the hunting party, or something. Maybe they’re just humouring him. James doesn’t know, but he watches in awe as they begin to move. The Captain is the last one to leave, giving Stevie that strange smile again before he goes.

“I suppose I best be going.” Stevie says.

James nods. “You best.”

Steve considers him for a moment, eyes scanning his features, and he smiles softly. James smiles back. It feels a lot easier than it probably should.

“It was wonderful to meet you.” Stevie says. “I hope to see you again, some day.”

“And I, you.” James answers.

Stevie grants him one last smile, dazzling, bright, before he nudges his horse and trots on through the forest to the fields beyond, where he then begins to gallop, catching up to the rest of the party as they return to the palace.

James doesn’t go right away. He waits, not wanting to return home. He wants to live in the moment he just had, where he was happier than he has been in the few months since his mother left. He may be mistreated, he may be a servant in his own home, but at least he has this memory to cling onto. The light in Stevie’s eyes, the smile on his lips, the warmth in his tone. Perhaps it will be enough to help him through.

He turns his steed around, and he heads home. No doubt he’ll be in trouble when he gets back, but he doesn’t think he cares.


End file.
